


The Absolutely True Diary of a Teenage Yithian

by Bethynyc



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethynyc/pseuds/Bethynyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span class="u">The Shadow Out of Time</span> from the opposite point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Absolutely True Diary of a Teenage Yithian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ultharkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/gifts).



> For ultharkitty! I hope you like it! I had fun writing it!  
> Many thanks to malinaldarose aka coralysendria for her beta work!

May 2, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

I am 1600 revolutions old today! My spore-parent has suggested that I create a diary of my experiences during my training and subsequent inhabitation of a human. There’s so much to study! I know from my previous schooling that I don’t want to inhabit someone too primitive, so I need to specialize in the history of humans from approx. 1600 CE to 2800 CE and the subsequent Human Diaspora. 

Tomorrow I’m getting tested on human languages. Wish me luck!

May 3, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Sigh. Failed Mandarin, Cyrillic, and !Kung.

However, passed French, Italian, Greek, Spanish (both Spain and South American Continent) and English! English is supposed to be the toughest, yo. (Note my timely use of idiom!)

Or should that be ‘dawg’?

May 5, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

My spore-parent has decided to be all “parental” and insist that I pass one of the three that I failed before moving on to the next part of training. Apparently my interest in late 20thC-early 21stC colloquialisms of North American and European youth doesn’t count as a proper research topic. 

Well #screwthatnoise

May 10, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

That was unpleasant. 

Spore-parent and mentor conspired to keep me from entertainment programs and my diary while cramming me in Mandarin, both written and spoken. I passed. Still, I have no interest in researching that segment of human culture. They don’t start being fun until the 22nd century when they start creating space stations and mining the asteroids. 

On the plus side, I have my satchel and may begin narrowing down my temporal scope for research!

May 20, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Research goes well! Have narrowed geographic area down to North America and am practicing colloquialisms with a Visitor. This is actually really fun! You know, except when the visitor panics. 

May 31, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Apparently there is a difference between Canada and the United States of America. My current Visitor acquaintance is extremely vehement on the subject. She (the Visitor is female, and I will never understand gender dimorphism in the human race) is from Canada and from the late 20th/early 21st centuries. Her colloquialisms describing the “Americans” is extremely pungent and descriptive. 

Though why they are Americans and she isn’t is beyond me. Aren’t they all on the North American continent?

Well, that’s why we go on these little temporal research missions, after all.

My satchel is filling with notes. I need to organize them better so there is room to carry books!

 

June 6, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Narrowed temporal research era to early 20th century, barring 1914-1918 and 1939-1945. I’m tempted by both the turn of the century and mid-century. Both are equally fascinating when it comes to human dynamics and technological innovation. This spurs fascinating turns in language and society.

Avoiding wars though. We have a Visitor who was pulled from the Viet Nam conflict, and unfortunately the body was incapacitated. My spore-parent is one of the temporal scientists working to extract the Yithian mind currently imprisoned in the human form. This is one of the things that has been taking up much of the spore-parent’s time over the past two planetary cycles, though of course there’s almost no time at all on the researcher’s end. It must be dreadfully boring, though, to be stuck in a non-functioning body, unable to study and do the job we are meant to do.

The Visitor just sits in a corner and shivers. 

 

June 16, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Narrowed down my area further! Apparently 9/10ths of the preparation for temporal research is figuring out exactly where you want to go and locating an appropriate subject!

I have chosen New England in North America and between 1900-1913, (well before the war begins!) and need to find a subject with the sort of education and professional training that I can use. This is so exciting!

Of course, because it is my first research trip, I need to do test runs in other bodies. BORING!

 

July 22, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Today is my first dry run in a human body! 

We use human spawn, mobile but preverbal, to keep from being discovered. The parental units call it ‘sleepwalking’ but it gives us valuable experience in controlling voluntary and involuntary physical movements.

They have chosen a spawn existing in the 21st century and given me very specific instructions as to what to do. I am to find a reflective surface and look at the human spawn that I am inhabiting. Then, if possible, return the spawn to the original resting place and withdraw.

Going under…

~*~*~*~

Well. That was not what I expected. I’m required to give a report on my experience, but here are my impressions recorded during my visit.

I opened my eyes. Eyelids are weird!

Had some trouble standing, as I was wrapped in cloth covers and in a raised cage. Managed to escape from cloth.

Once free and vertical, I gazed about the dimly lit room. A reflective square rested upon a table at the far end of the room. As my vision adjusted to the light levels, I strained to see this creature I am inhabiting.

Wow. I appeared very odd. Two large dark brown ocular sensors were set in a lighter brown face. There was a bump with two holes in the middle, and a larger hole beneath. On top was very dark brown fuzz that curled. My balance was unsteady, and I grasped the top of the cage for support. 

The spawn was dressed in a pale one-piece garment shaped to its limbs.

I regarded my two upper appendages (only two!) and counted five manipulating digits on each appendage. The lower appendages seemed to also have five digits, although these were less flexible.

Unexpected liquid elimination. This was very uncomfortable. My instructors assured me that this was normal behavior for the human species, at least the spawn.

OH.   
There was a certain amount of discomfort in the lower regions.   
EW! SOLID WASTE!!! DISGUSTING!!!

I decided to get out of this creature, RIGHT THEN.

~*~*~*~

As I withdrew, I felt the original personality return and the creature made a wailing, siren-like noise. 

UGH.

I really hope the mature humans have better control over their bodily functions, because that almost made me want to switch my study focus to the beings of pure consciousness of Organia.

SO GROSS.

 

July 23, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

After debriefing, I was told that I would need much more practice in using a human body before being embedded for research. 

This sucks.

 

December 17, 56,238,512 BCE (human reckoning)

Practice, practice, practice.

Getting better at being bipedal and keeping control over involuntary functions.

If it weren’t for the GHLAGYHEE VS THE SPACE POLYPS entertainment serial, I would have quit and become a mining engineer or a librarian or something. But my spore-parent was a temporal researcher, and its spore-parent, and the spore-parent before that.

Kind of a matter of family honor, at this point, not to screw up.

(Besides, no one else gets the cool satchels.)

~*~*~*~

May 1, 56,612 BCE (human reckoning)

Another anniversary of my spore-hatching. I am 1700 revolutions old, and have been in an incredibly boring apprenticeship for the past hundred turnings of this planet around its star. 

After a number of training setbacks, which I will not detail here in my personal journal, as they were humiliating and therefore Burned Into My Cortex Forever, I am finally judged ready for my first full integration with a human subject. My mentor and spore-parent chose for me, as they are still not convinced of the academic value of the effects of technological innovation on language and culture of the human race. 

They picked an _economist_ for me to inhabit. Ugh. Even worse, a _political economist_! Drier than the polar deserts.

Still, if I do well with him, hopefully I’ll get to move on to other more exciting subjects. 

**Subject: Nathaniel Wingate Peaslee, professor of Political Economy at Miskatonic University in Arkham Massachusetts.**

**Duration of assignment: Five ~~planetary revolutions~~ years. **

**Purpose of assignment: Acclimate to the human world at this time. Track down manuscripts referring to The Great Race and notate for future reference.**

**Warnings: Do not disrupt the life of the subject to an extreme degree!**

 

May 14, 1908 (local time)

Easing into the subject slowly…and…

I’m in. 

And the body has collapsed. This is unexpected. Apparently the spawn and sleepers that I have been practicing on don’t have the same issues as a fully grown and awake human being.

I’ll need to fully explore the body-mind connection while it is unconscious.

Sixteen hours later…

Okay, I think I am gaining some control of the body. Obviously, the practice humans had less of a bond between the body and mind. 

I wonder if this is some sort of test.

I think they purposefully chose a difficult subject to deter me from becoming a temporal researcher! 

Well, this is going to be the most perfect integration research journey ever!

I opened my eyes, and saw a female human staring at me. She had a name, a role in my life…

“M-m-mother?”

Her face crumpled into lines, and water came out of her eyes, and she fled, making a dreadful noise. I hope that isn’t her usual reaction to me.

An adult male human, wearing a white coat and ocular enhancements, sat in the recently vacated space. “Nathaniel. That was your wife, Alice.”

I thought for a moment. What would be the appropriate reaction? “Oh. Um. Oops?”

His expression seemed…confused, if I was reading his facial expressions correctly. “Do you know where you are?”

I glanced around the room. There was a bed, which I was currently ensconced in, other items of wooden furniture, and quite a bit of cloth drapery. I swallowed and attempted to clear my throat. “Hos-pital?”

He shifted in the chair and the hairy bits over his eyes lowered. Probably got that one wrong.

“You are in your own home, Nathaniel. You had an incident during your class yesterday morning and fell unconscious.”

He fell silent, and seemed to require some sort of reply from me. “I do not remember.”

His response was to pat my arm and nod before leaving the room. 

Note to self: This is going to be much tougher than I thought it would be. 

Five Years Later…

Apparently my mentor did not think I would be able to return to my own body without help! An associate was sent with instructions to build a device that would enact the switch and be sure that Nathaniel’s memories were completely erased. 

I accepted the assistance, even though I didn’t need it. 

I do feel a little sorry for Nathaniel, though. I screwed up his marriage and his family. Little Wingate seems all right, though. 

HA! I showed them! I got through FIVE YEARS of Nathaniel Wingate Peaslee! 

Let’s see any of them survive that!


End file.
